The Last of the Wolves
by The Reaping Wolf
Summary: I am no one, I've been living a lie for the past two years, living in a foster family as my current 'home' after living a hellish life. No one knows my past or my true name, no one sees my scars or see the mask I wear every day. The truth is best to be hidden, and it better remain that way. I am and always will be no one.
1. No One

**Hey readers,**

**This is my first Victorious fanfiction with a serious twist. I'm debating if I should hook her up with one of the main cast or an OC. It's also my first TV Show fanfiction, because I mostly create anime and book fanfiction.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Victorious.**

**Notice: Sorry if there's bad grammar, spelling, and/or typos. **

**Chapter 1, No One**

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_No body's life is perfect, not everyone lives a safe life, nobody has been through the shit I've been through, and no one knows the real me._

_So far, anyways. Let's keep it that way…_

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I was born into a world of hell. My parents were drug dealers, and I was their mistake. I was never loved by them, I was their weapon. They taught me how to lie, to steal, to fight, to kill, everything a kid isn't supposed to know.

When I turned seven, my parents were caught for murdering two drunk boys that were coming home after a party. I was unknown to the world, so I was on my own, left alone.

I lived in the worst neighborhood but no one messes with a kid that grew up like I had, that was just the way it was to us.

I stole and hid to survive, getting into drugs and selling them when I was nine, fought street fights for cash, but never actually killed until I was twelve.

I was caught and put in Juvie, a prison for children. Murders, thieves, rappers, worse, anyone like that who ranged from six to fourteen.

I was stripped of my rags and sprayed down with antilice spray then put in a shower with staff to pat me down, make sure I don't attack them.

Our clothes were replaced with orange suits way bigger than our size, and couldn't were bras with underwire. Showering was in groups, never alone, and there were no raisers to inflict ourselves with pain or death.

If you got sick you couldn't see anyone, you were left to fight it to become immune or suffer. There are mandatory counts, pop room and person searches, lots of lockdown time.

The guards are rough verbally and physically. Housed in a small cell with a small sink and toilet bowl, and two cots without pillows or blankets. My two roommates got the cots while I took the floor, leaning my back against the steel brick wall.

I got in many fights in or out of my cell resulting in 'punishment' by the guards. We could get educated, though most of us didn't bother, I was one of those who didn't care.

If we did chose to though it would be writing, and with a pencil only without an eraser. But one good thing was we could steal shit, good shit.

My inmates and I knew how to pickpocket and steal, and we got some nice drugs from guards and would trade with other cell mates when we got out of our cells.

There was a TV that was outside our cells on a horrible lame-ass channel, no games. There are mobiles, back up bouncer types that watch the halls on video, and are available if a fight breaks out. Doors are opened by the mobiles in the control room.

We would make contraband, shives, shanks, and alcohol whenever someone got caught on lockdown. If a unit ever went out of control the whole place was put on lockdown with guards up everywhere and they would sometimes release the dogs.

There are useless unit meetings, food absolutely sucks, utensils are plastic and are counted, and there are no plastic knives.

Anyone attempting suicide gets put on a 1:1 lockdown and is stripped naked, and the mattress is taken away. We would play spades, and barter with our stuff like food or phone calls which I didn't need.

Out of my time inside, I broke my nose twice, and all the fingers of my right dominant hand. Bruises healed overtime, more scars began to line my body from fights, and I got a nasty dog bite scar on my left ankle. One of my inmates attempted suicide and failed.

The other served their time and was released replaced by another girl my age. But even with all that shit going on, you got used to it.

I made sure I kept my strength up, working in my cell gaining hard core muscles and abs. Never had I lost a fight, and never didn't bleed.

Though one day I broke free, I escaped with my roommates but I was the only one who actually managed to get past. I was there for three years, constantly cutting the bars lose with nail files with my inmates.

It too three years to get three bars loose enough to break off.

And one night, when I was fifteen, I broke out.

The three of us slipped through the small opening we had from the three bars of the window, and ran like hell. A siren went off and one of us were darted down by tranquilizers.

Soon guards came out and we had to evade or fight out way through. By the time I jumped up the fence and was about to jump over, I looked back and saw my other roommate pinned down by multiple guards being restrained.

One gun locked on me, and then I jumped, hearing the shot whiz past me as I fell and continued to run and run. I ran past moving cars, hearing the tires squeal and horns go off but I continued to run didn't stop or look back.

I made my way into a forest and continued to run I don't know how long. Though soon enough the forest came to an end and it was dark. I found a shack and lock picked the lock breaking in. There was no alarm system thankfully.

I went over to a clothing rack and grabbed a bunch of black clothing my size. Black jeans, black underwire, black sports bra, black t-shirt, black hoodie, black socks, and a black hoodie.

I stripped off all the orange till I was bare and slipped on the black clothing. I knew I would look suspicious so I decided to make myself look more Goth-like and went to the makeup section and applied heavy black eyeliner, black lipstick, and mascara, and concealer to cover the scars.

I then grabbed a needle from one of the doors at the front desk and pierced my ears to put in black studs in my ears. I found some hair dye and made my hair black with red and white streaks. I had to hide my eye colors so I grabbed some blue contact lenses and put them gently over my eyeball then grabbed some black cool looking sunglasses.

I looked at my reflection through the window and barely recognize myself. My eyes had the piercing look I was so familiar with, the only way I could tell.

I robbed the cash register of two hundred bucks and left. Soon after walking miles north (Cause my prison was south) who knows how long I came across a cheap motel and paid forty bucks for a room.

The room was small with a cheap bed that had a single white pillow and then sheet, and a wooden desk-table. I probably looked like a runaway teenage Goth, but no one cares here because I look older than I am and paid them their charge.

I could take care of myself, I was on my own for fifteen years, even though three were in Juvie I was still on my own, to fend for myself.

I walked to the bed and immediately flopped unto the bed and fell into a dream-less sleep.

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**Yes, short but they'll get longer.**

**Plz rate and review!**

**Till next time,**

**Later.**


	2. Foster Home

**Hey readers,**

**This is the latest chapter of 'The Last or the Wolves' Victorious Fanfiction, but with a major twist.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Victorious.**

**Notice: Sorry if there's bad grammar, spelling, and/or typos. **

**Chapter 2, Foster Home**

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After I woke up, it was day so I headed out not wanting to look suspicious by leaving at night. I walked with my hands in my pockets and shrugging, trying to look not like a-prison-break-Juvie-kid.

I walked and walked onward, keeping my head back and forward and not down like I was used to so I didn't look suspicious.

The Juvie prison I was at was in Washington, today it was raining so I pulled my hood up to keep myself from getting to wet and decided I get out of state first and find a good place to crash.

Anywhere to close to Washington would be too risky, and staying in the state is suicidal, I need a place that's really populated to crash. Once I reached Portland I found another hotel to crash for thirty bucks that had better stats than the other and stayed there for a night before leaving the following day.

It took me two months to walk from Oregon to California but I survived through my theft and pickpocket skills. My hair dye had faded, the streaks were gone, and the black had turned my hair a dark brown.

I still had the contacts but changed them to a dark green since the dye went out, I can't screw up and end up back in Juvie or worse. I needed to be free. And it couldn't be waited in a prison cell.

I traveled for another month before finally crashing in an alley way, I decided I would stay there for now. I was too damn tired of walking. It's been four months since my escape, and even I know I'm not completely free, it's better than being in shackles.

Two days had passed since I had lived on the streets of Sacramento though soon a robbery happened and police swarmed the area forcing me to move out. I walked until I reached a city called 'San Jose'.

Three days later a cop approached me and I found myself with no escape. The cop was a women and as she approached me slowly till she was twelve feet from me she stopped. "Where are your parents?" She asked me.

It was then I knew I had to lie my way out a certain way.

I knew I couldn't say they weren't here and that I was just going out but do to my appearance that wouldn't fool her, and even if it somehow did she would walk me back to my 'parents' believed 'home' and I'd be screwed.

If I made a run for it, it'd be too suspicious and I could possibly be found out that I was the escaped Juvie-girl so that was out. I would just have to lie my way out without giving up to much info.

"Gone." I responded with a fake sad tone. I looked at the ground just for kicks. She seemed to take a step forward. "How long have you've been out here?" She asked me. I shrugged. She nodded and walked closer toward me. "What's your name?" She asked me. My mind froze for a second as a thousand names passed through my brain that I could use as a fake-name.

I don't know why but I thought of Queen Victoria for a moment thinking of my mother for a moment, not her name but appearance. No way would I use my mother's name as my own. "Victoria." I told her. It wasn't even similar to my real name so I knew I was safe on name bases. "Last name?" She asked me. I shrugged as my reply.

I watched as she pulled out her walkie-talkie and spoke a code into it before waving her hand at me toward her to follow her. "Come with me, we'll find you a better place than the streets." She told me but I doubted that.

So I got in her police car and we drove to a very large, three story building. I knew what it was before she told me.

When she pulled up she looked back at me and said exactly what I knew she would say, "Okay Victoria, you'll be staying at an Adoption Agency until we can find a foster family to take you in."

It was then, I knew this would be a long ride from here, and it would be in a whole other world to experience.

In my mind I gave a sarcastic 'yay', and entered the doors to my new world, though it would always remain the same.

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**Yes, short again, but they'll get longer. Promise.**

**Plz rate and review!**

**Till next time, cause I gotta sleep~**

**Later.**


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